


and this love came back to me

by cinderlily



Category: American Idol RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, M/M, Schmoop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2015-09-28
Packaged: 2018-04-23 21:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4892713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinderlily/pseuds/cinderlily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>David has been staying with Cook for a while and to thank him he made brownies. Domestic schmoop ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	and this love came back to me

Cook leaned over the pan of brownies and sniffed happily. 

“Oh man, you’ve missed your calling Archuleta.”

David did **not** blush because that would be old him, young him. But he did feel his ears warm, just a bit. “Actually I didn’t. I went on the mission, you know. Got that t-shirt.” 

“What was that?” Cook laughed, mouth half full of a brownie. “Was that a joke? Cheeky. I like it.” 

David cringed. “Gross, Cooook. Mouth closed when you chew, please?” 

Cook grinned toothily, the brown chunks between each of his teeth. “Got something in my teeth?” 

“Seriously… gross,” David turned away, smiling nevertheless. “See if I make you brownies ever again.” 

Cook instantly put his head on David’s shoulder, making a show of chewing and swallowing before he blinked over dramatically. “Oh please Arch, forgive me? More brownies? All the brownies?” 

David wasn’t one to resist Cook’s face on the best of days, but his stupid over exaggerated pout and big eyes would be the death of him some day. He gently pushed Cook’s forehead away from his shoulder and started to clean up the kitchen around him. 

“I’ll make you brownies, all the brownies,” he said, deliberately concentrating on the task of cleaning. “I mean, you’re letting me crash at your place rent free while I figure out… everything.” 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see a soft smile on Cook’s face. “Oh come one Archie, you know mi casa es su casa. You owe me nothing… I mean. I’m not fighting off the baking but don’t feel like you **have** to. I’m pretty sure your cooking and baking is the most action this kitchen has seen since I moved here.” 

At that David did blush, which was pretty much the worst timing he could have done it and he felt entirely stupid, because he was 24 years old and he was standing in the kitchen with one of his best friends _blushing_ at the phrase “getting action”. He thought to make a joke of it, but it was too late. It would definitely be too weird and awkward. 

Besides, Cook had turned away and started to clean around the kitchen. Which was so not what he was meant to do. 

“I told you I was doing this as a thank you,” he all but squeaked. “You cleaning is defeating the point!” 

Cook turned to him. “So you’ll owe me more brownies, right? Either way, Mama Cook taught me whoever cooks doesn’t clean. It’s a basic rule of the kitchen. Trust me, I did a lot of cleaning because of it.” 

David put his hands on his hips. “Well, then we do it the riiiight way. You’ve got to do that by hand. It doesn’t go in the dishwasher.” 

“I bought stuff that wasn’t dishwasher safe?” Cook baffled, looking over the pan like it had personally offended him. 

David took the pan from his hand. “No. You did not. But I did.” 

“Why would you do that? The whole point is to buy stuff for the dishwasher. It _washes dishes_.” 

“But it doesn’t bake as well, this bakes the brownies more evenly.” 

David wasn’t entirely sure if that was right, but it was the pan that his mom had always used and the one that his Abuela had used so he kind of just felt like it made the brownies better. Or maybe it was the memories? He didn’t know. He filled the sink with warm water and put the pan into it. 

“You are a man of many layers,” Cook nudged him out of the way with his hip and grabbed the soap and a scrubbing brush (that David had bought along with the pan, Cook’s kitchen was sadly lacking). 

“Be gentle!” 

Cook arched his eyebrow. “Dude, I’ve cleaned pans by hand before. I’m not a complete heathen.” 

David didn’t say what he wanted to say, but instead stood close to him and watched carefully. He liked it, secretly, standing there so close to him. Feeling the warmth that generally came off of Cook. Watching him clean the pan and listening to him hum something indistinct. 

“Writing something?” David asked. 

Cook paused and shrugged. “Maybe. Just a tune in my head. I’d have to come up with words.” 

“Words are _hard_ ,” David said, with just that touch of whine. Cook laughed at him, nothing new. “What? They are.” 

“i’ve listened to you fiddling with the piano, man. You’ve got the words going for you.” 

David took the pan out of Cook’s hand, drying it off with an extra towel. “You’re not supposed to listen, you were supposed to be sleeping.” 

“It was nice,” Cook said, leaned up against the sink. “Made the house feel a little less like a tomb.” 

David looked over at where Cook seemed to be relaxed, smiling, but something was there too. He smiled back though. “Well, you did get a pretty big house.” 

“I’d kind of thought of it in the long term without thinking short term,” Cook admitted. “I blame the lady who sold it. She could have been an actress in another life. Or a writer. She painted the life, you know? Married, two point five kids, puppy running around the yard.” 

“You’ve got Dubs,” David pointed out, putting the cleaned pan off to the side and leaning against the side of the sink with Cook. They were a little too close. A little too intimate. But he wasn’t moving. He was, however, going to break the silence. “I never understood the two point five kids thing. Like… do you have a kid part time? Or do you only have half a kid? What do they mean?” 

Cook huffed out a laugh. “It’s an average, dude. I helped you with math. I know you know what averages are.” 

“Well with such an amazing teacher.” 

“When did you get so sassy, Archuleta?” 

Was Cook getting closer? Maybe David was the one leaning in. He couldn’t tell. All he knew was he had gone from a full foot of space between them to the sudden feeling of Cook pressed along his side, and the warmth of his breath near his mouth. 

“Cook?” he exhaled. 

“Yeah?” 

He inched a little closer. They were so close. So so so close. He couldn’t put into words what he was thinking beyond the fact that it felt like a long time coming and all of a sudden all at once. 

“What are we doing?” 

In response Cook kissed him. 

His lips were chapped, like always, David had spent countless hours staring at Cook biting on his stupid lips. He’d even gone so far as buying chapstick and leaving it out but while Cook had thanked him and even used it a few times, it didn’t help. The exhale of air from Cook’s nose and the hair tickled his upper lip. 

Everything felt… satisfying. That was the word. Like the first taste of his Abuela’s horchata, the first note played at the concert and the sound of laughter from a group of friends all at once. 

Cook wrapped his arms around David’s back and David did so to. The kiss which had started almost slowly had gone into a mode of feverishness. Of need. Cook was pushing forward and David pushed back. 

“Um. Can we. Do we..” David pulled back and tried to collect his words. “Can we go to the couch?” 

Cook blinked at him. “What?” 

“This isn’t the most comfortable position to be in…” 

“And you want to … keep going?” 

David sometimes regretted that they met when they did. Because no matter where they went in their life, there would always be a part of Cook who saw him as who he was. The sixteen year old who could sing but who couldn’t make a decision without his dad helping him. Thankfully it wasn’t all that Cook saw of him, but he did know that it would be there. 

“Come on,” he smiled and took Cook’s hand, which was still just a little damp from the sink. He lead him through the kitchen and into the wide open living room. It really did speak to a family. He could picture kids and mess and craziness everywhere. But instead there were a few dogs toys and a sleeping Dublin in the corner, who lifted his head and looked at the two of them for all of a second before turning his head and went back to bed. 

The couch, thankfully, was large and deep and kind of perfect for what David wanted to do. Which was… well. Make out seemed like such a childish term but there wasn’t really a grown up way of saying it. 

“Sit?” he said, internally groaning at the way his voice went way up at the end. Make out like teenagers, indeed. He tried again. “Sit.” 

Cook did, and looked at him, his eyes warm and pupils slightly blown. 

David didn’t have… a ton of experience. Not that he would tell Cook that under pain of death, but he had had _some_ experience. He climbed onto the couch and onto Cook, straddling him. He leveraged himself with his elbows and looked at Cook, who’s mouth was slack and eyes were a little wide. 

“Hi,” he said, close to his lips and followed it by giving him a quick peck on his lips. 

Cook leaned a little back. “Hey?” 

“Is this okay?” David leaned back as well, not sure if he’d gone too far too fast. 

“Hey, wait,” Cook’s hand landed on the back of David’s head and pulled him in for a long kiss. “You are a never ending puzzle.” 

David smiled into their next kiss. That was something he was okay with. It just meant that Cook would need more time with him to figure it out.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "this love" by taylor swift. 
> 
> I really have no excuse for this but for the fact that all the Cookleta love is making my heart go "WHEEEE".
> 
> Not betaed, so blame me for everything. Or offer up betaing? ;)


End file.
